War Daze
by megaflash
Summary: The early days of Poppy Pomfrey


The wail of air raid sirens filled the air, signaling the incoming German bombings. Hundreds of London citizens rushed for shelter, casting fearful glances to the sky. Above them, bomb bays opened to unleash their deadly payload upon the city.

Mediwitch Poppy Pomfrey grimaced as the ground shook and dust fell from the ceiling. An emergency triage center had been assembled in the city to receive portkeys with wounded wizards.

"Hold him down!" Pomfrey snapped to the nurse across from her. On the bed between them, a wizard convulsed and screamed, a dark curse burning its way through him.

"I'm trying!" said the nurse, frantically waving her wand. "The spells aren't working!"

"Restrain him then," Pomfrey replied. She snapped off a spell to see internal damage, trying to figure out the curse.

"Lung damage, erratic heart rate, and kidney isn't functional," she murmured as the patient was tied down. "The seems to be magically resistant as well."

Grabbing a lime green potion from a small tray next to her, she attempted to administer it. The man flinched and pulled against his restraints, eyes shut tight and face twisted in pain.

"Open his mouth." Pomfrey commanded, unstopping the potion. The nurse obeyed, carefully aiming her wand to force his mouth open. Pomfrey poured the concoction down his throat. He stopped thrashing and yanking against the restraints. A low moan escaped as his body relaxed.

"The curse is still killing him," Pomfrey stated, waving her wand again. His major organs were no longer shutting down, but he was far from safe.

With a pop, three men appeared in the designated empty arrival point in the back of the bunker. The third man was being held up by the other two, as everything below his knees was absent. Disturbingly, all three of them gripped a leg.

"I've got this Ma'am," her assistant said, casting a general healing spell. Pomfrey nodded and strode towards the new arrivals.

The man without legs sat in a bed, staring at his stumps. In between those stumps lay three left legs.

"What kind of cutting curse was he hit with?" Pomfrey asked, noting how quiet the legless man was being.

"He lost the left leg to a dark red curse- "

"-but his right leg was a splinching accident."

Poppy Pomfrey blinked as the men hurriedly talked over each other.

"Sorry Ma'am," said the man to her right. "I'm Newman, and he's Davis."

On her left, Davis gestured to the man on the cot, "This poor fellow was hopping away from a dark wizard, one of Grindelwald's men probably. Would have been funny, except he took that cutting curse right as we reached him. We conjured some bandages but couldn't do more than that in the field."

Poppy snapped her fingers in the face of the man on the cot. "He's going into shock."

"What can we do?" Both men asked her.

"Start sealing the splinching wound. I can reattach his other leg, but it won't be pretty."

The trio went to work. Newman held the man still with his hands, while Davis magically sealed the flesh at the right knee. There would be scarring, but that was better than bleeding to death.

Pomfrey weaved her wand through an incantation to see the damage on the left leg. In her mind's eye, she could see clotting in the blood vessels, and the way the magic was attempting to heal the body.

"The good news is that I can put his leg back on," Pomfrey said, selecting the man's foot from the other two. She lined it up with his left stump.

"What's the bad news?"

"It's going to feel like his entire leg was dipped in boiling water, then struck with lightning." Pomfrey raised her wand, preparing to vanish the temporary bandages.

The twins grabbed a spot on either side of the patient, getting ready to hold him. She uncovered his stump and pushed the leg against it. The man groaned, still not entirely with them.

"Now for the hard part," Pomfrey murmured. The spell for this situation was tricky, needing to be cast multiple times in a row to ensure success. It cleared blood clots, encouraged growth, and mended skin. Perfect for reattaching limbs, unless the patient was awake.

"Oh God," The man shouted, snapping back to reality. His breathing came in short gasps as his body shook. The twins kept pressure on his torso and his legs, trying to keep him still.

"I need a Blood Replenishing Potion over here!" Pomfrey yelled, continuing to cast. The ceiling shook again, raining dust and plaster.

/\/\/\/\

Poppy Pomfrey sighed as she sat down. She was glad to be off her feet after eight hours. Tending to the wounded was tiring in more ways than one. She couldn't save everyone, but she took comfort that she had saved as many as she could.

"Hello Poppy," came a voice from the door to her small office.

"Professor Dumbledore!" Pomfrey said, smiling at the sight of her Transfiguration teacher. "What are you doing here?"

Despite the charred robes and small cuts along the left side of his face, he looked like he had walked right out of Hogwarts.

"I'm…" He started, then stopped and looked down. "I'm not sure, I was looking for somewhere quiet."

"Come in," Pomfrey insisted, clearing off a chair. "Do you need a drink as badly as I do, Professor?"

"Yes," Dumbledore said, sitting down. "That would be lovely."

"What brings you all the way to London, Professor?" Pomfrey asked, retrieving a bottle of firewhiskey and two cups from a locked drawer.

"Grindelwald."

"Ah," she said, pouring out the alcohol.

The two of them downed their drinks and Pomfrey refilled them. They nursed their second cup, not saying anything.

"I knew him," Dumbledore said quietly.

"Really?"

"Yes, he stayed near me one summer. It was invigorating, having someone my age with vision and the drive to succeed."

Dumbledore finished his second drink, and Pomfrey poured him another.

"He was passionate and articulate. Charming and intelligent. By the end of the summer, I thought him my friend."

"What happened?" She asked, almost afraid of the answer.

"A disagreement turned violent. Spells were cast and my sister died. I don't know who cast the final curse, but it didn't matter."

Pomfrey finished her drink and set it aside.

"He fled to the continent. I hoped I would never see him again, but it seems I may be the only one able to stop him."

"Why?"

"We would often duel each other, to keep our edge. I know his habits and his favorite spells."

"I've heard that he acquired a dark artifact that was boosting his power," Pomfrey said. "The men coming back say Grindelwald was fighting off whole groups of trained wizards."

Dumbledore bowed his head. "I was afraid of that. Even so, I believe myself to be a match for him."

"Are you sure, Professor?" Pomfrey questioned. "I would hate to lose you to that madman as well."

Dumbledore stood up and glanced at Pomfrey, "Of this, my dear, I am positive."

As Dumbldore strode from the room, Poppy Pomfrey took comfort in the determination she saw in his eyes.

**A/N**

**House/Team: Ravenclaw**

**Class Subject: Transfiguration**

**Story Category: Standard**

**Prompt: [Character: Poppy Pomfrey]**

**Word Count: 1202**


End file.
